


what we have

by magumarashi



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Feels, F/M, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), cid and alphinaud also show up briefly but im not gonna tag em lmao, i tagged the above ships bc thats kind of the undertone i was going for, rather than anything explicitly happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24188173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magumarashi/pseuds/magumarashi
Summary: After watching her dear friend lock himself away in the Crystal Tower, the Warrior of Light spends a few days in the Seventh Heaven attempting to drown her sorrows with a little ale. Concerned for their friend's wellbeing, Cid and Alphinaud decide to send for Haurchefant to help get her back on her feet.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light, Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	what we have

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea swimming in my head for a while but it wasn't until I got through the vault (rip) that I decided to actually flesh it out... Writing anything of substance has been a little hard lately, but I'm glad I was able to get this done ;u;
> 
> For context, my WoL is a Viera named Aoife Asturmaux. (Her first name is pronounced "Eefa".) I put her backstory on [the Lodestone](https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/character/27819823/) so I won't repeat it here, but the only detail I feel is super relevant for this is that she grew up in Coerthas with her adoptive parents, hence the Elezen last name.
> 
> This should go without saying but if you haven't done the Crystal Tower raids, this fic does contain spoilers for that quest chain!

On any given day, it was not so strange a sight to find adventurers of all classes and creeds chasing the bottom of a bottle at the Seventh Heaven. Mor Dhona wasn’t exactly an easy place to adventure in, what with the encroaching monsters, punishing terrain and ever-vigilant Garlean patrols. The Seventh Heaven had long been a place for adventurers to drink away their grief over companions who never made it back to Revenant’s Toll.

A Viera adventurer, however, was a rare sight in Mor Dhona. Even rarer still to see one huddled over the counter, drinking without a hint of decorum—piling up bottles and flagons as though she were the only soul in the crowded bar. A fledgling dodo waddled unsupervised around her feet, pecking for scraps off the tavern floor.

Such is the sorry state in which Alphinaud and Cid finally found their friend, the Warrior of Light.

“See?” said Cid, indicating to the silver-haired Viera at the bar. “Told you she’d be here.”

“How many suns has she been like that?” Alphinaud asked, frowning.

“Hm…” Cid put a thick-gloved hand to his chin pensively. “Bout two or three, if I had to guess.”

“And drinking this whole time?!” Alphinaud couldn’t contain his shock.

“Well, probably not the _whole_ time,” said Cid. “Honestly, can’t say I blame her after what happened at the Crystal Tower. She and G’raha were…”

“Right…” Alphinaud looked around, scanning the room for someone who could help them lift their friend’s spirits. None of the faces around him looked familiar. “Well, we can’t very well let her go on like this. Let’s get her back on her feet, shall we?”

“Oh, I’ve tried, believe me,” said Cid. “She’s a stubborn one, though. I’m not sure what it’d take to get her out of her funk… I don’t know her half as well as I’d like to.”

“I see…” Now it was Alphinaud’s turn to lower his head in thought. “Who do we know who’s good at this sort of thing…?”

The Elezen and Garlean stood pensively for a while, wracking their brains for anyone whose presence might spur their friend into recovery. Alphinaud considered the other Scions, each of whom had seen their fair share of troubles over the years. Perhaps one of them could provide the empathy his friend needed? Cid, meanwhile, had begun to consider candidates from beyond Mor Dhona (if only because Biggs, Wedge, and Rammbroes had each tried their hands with no success). Suddenly, an idea came to him, and the Garlean clapped a fist into his palm.

“I know just who to send for,” he said. “Give me a bell or two to get the message out; our man doesn’t use linkshells.”

“I see…”

Though Alphinaud couldn’t imagine who Cid might be sending for off the linkshell network, he supposed he would trust the man’s judgement. At the very least, it would give him more time to rally the other Scions should all else fail…

_“No doubt your heroism will be the star by which I chart my course when I awake…”_

Aoife Asturmaux had lost track of the number of suns she’d spent nursing a bottle in the Seventh Heaven, and to be perfectly honest, she didn’t want to know the answer.

She knew it was shameful to carry on like this, but she almost couldn’t help it. Each time she stepped back outside into the plaza she was met with a view of the Crystal Tower off in the distance, sparkling in the sunlight or glowing meekly through the fog. That sight never failed to remind her of what happened, and she always found herself walking right back inside to forget about it again. But she never could forget, no—it was burned into her memory, the sight of her dear friend smiling a bittersweet goodbye as the golden gates shut behind him. 

More than anything, she wished she’d said something. She wished she’d tried to find another way. There had to be another way. There had to be _some_ other way. Even if there wasn’t one last trick, one last miracle, she felt she hadn’t done enough. Hadn’t said enough. She wished she’d told him, then, what he meant to her, so that he didn’t have to spend his sleep wondering how she felt.

Or would that have only made their parting all the worse?

And so she mired herself in what-ifs, thinking in circles for what was looking to be another night of self pity and regret. But then— 

“Ah! I was told I’d find you here!”

Aoife’s ears twitched, and she turned to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on her. They had not: a tall, silver-haired Elezen clad head to toe in chainmail was making his way in from the front, clinking like a brand-new set of silverware. Some heads turned, eyeing the newcomer with mild interest, for an Isghardian knight in full armor was a fairly uncommon sight in Revenant’s Toll. Their neighbors to the north tended to keep to themselves, trusting no one but their own. This Ishgardian, however, met their gazes with a disarming smile before taking the seat next to Aoife at the bar.

“Haurshefn??” she said, incredulously.

“Indeed,” said Haurchefant, not caring how badly her lips fumbled his name. “It seems you’re in a bit of a state, my friend.”

“Y… yeah…” Aoife almost couldn’t look at him. Had it been one of the Scions come to find her, she probably wouldn’t have been so embarrassed. They’d seen her highs as well as her lows; they knew she wasn’t infallible. Haurchefant, on the other hand, greatly looked up to her as a hero—she almost didn’t want him to see her like this, dishevelled and worn from the third straight day of drinking. “Er… you… What’re you doing here? You’re a long… a long way from Camp Dragonhead.”

“True, but it’s practically a stone’s throw for an Ishgardian Chocobo,” Haurchefant answered. “The journey took a mere half bell.”

“Wow… really?” At first Aoife was very impressed by this, picturing a Chocobo running like lightning across a snowy plain. In the next instant her drunken brain was able to recall that Ishgardian Chocobos are capable of flight. “Right, flying…”

“Mm,” said Haurchefant, “So you see, it was no trouble to come visit. Especially at Master Garlond’s request.”

“Gotcha…” said Aoife. “So Cid asked you t’come out here… sorry for making you come all this way…”

“Truly, it’s no trouble,” Haurchefant insisted. “I consider you a dear friend, Aoife—and I’m not one to ignore a friend in need.” 

“Thanks…” said Aoife, her eyes turning back to the half-empty pint in her hand. Haurchefant reached over and gently pried it from her grip. Too tired to stop him, Aoife let him move the pint glass to the counter on his far side.

“Come now,” he said, signalling the bartender. “Let’s get you some water first, and after that… I’d like to hear what happened, if you’re alright sharing.”

“Okay…” Aoife nodded. She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk about it, especially not with someone who hadn’t been there to see it happen. But somehow… the look of concern on his face made her think that it might not hurt to try. 

After taking a grateful swig of water, Aoife gathered her words and tried to decide where best to start her story.

“You, um… you know the Crystal Tower, right?”

“It’s somewhat hard to miss, isn’t it?” said Haurchefant.

“Right. Yeah,” said Aoife awkwardly. “Anyway… I was part of a… part of a team investigating the tower.”

“Go on…”

Aoife spent the next little while detailing their mission, as best she could in her current state: she told of how they’d first gone to great lengths to get the right kind of crystals that could neutralize the barriers surrounding it. It was here that she’d first met G’raha Tia - a Miqo’te scholar with odd eyes and a peculiar interest in the Crystal Tower. He’d seemed a difficult, impatient sort at first, but as the investigation went on, she began to find him all the more endearing for his eagerness to learn. He quickly came to admire her strength, and often asked her to tell him about her adventures with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. This in turn helped her become more confident in talking about herself—the very reason she felt able to tell Haurchefant what had happened, when before she would have simply bottled up her troubles.

She and G’raha grew fairly close in the time they spent together… close enough that Aoife started to wonder whether what she felt for him was camaraderie or something more.

By the time she realized the answer, it was too late. The tower was on the verge of a meltdown like unto a second Calamity, and the only thing that could control it was the blood of an Allagan royal—blood that G’raha Tia had flowing in his veins. He shut himself within the tower, fated to slumber in stasis until Eorzea’s technology had come to rival that of Allag. When that time came, he would awaken once again to share the secrets of Allag with ears that were ready to hear them.

As Aoife finished her tale, Haurchefant watched her quietly. He had nodded throughout, asking questions only when she mentioned a term he was unfamiliar with, but otherwise letting her tell her story without interruption. It was only when it was clear that Aoife had no more to say that the Elezen opened his mouth to speak.

“Ishgard has been at war as long as I've been alive,” he said quietly. “I am no stranger to losing friends. Yet… the thought that your friend is still alive in there almost seems all the more painful.”

“Right?!” Aoife nodded her head vigorously, then immediately regretted it—the buzz was starting to wear off, and her head throbbed. “Knowing he still lives, yet I’ll never see him again in my lifetime…” She almost reached for the half pint of ale that Haurchefant had taken from her, but knew she ought not to. “Knowing that I’ll never have a chance to tell him…”

Haurchefant seemed to think of something; he straightened up.

“Actually, now that I think of it—you may yet have a chance to meet again.”

Aoife shot him a quizzical look.

“What do you mean?” 

“I read that Viera live three times as long as Elezen and Hyur,” said Haurchefant. “If that’s the case, then you may well see your dear friend again in your lifetime, Aoife. With brilliant minds like Master Garlond’s at the helm, I’ve no doubt Eorzea’s technology will catch up to Allag ere long.”

“Wait, go back—where did you read that about Viera?!”

“Why, the Holy Archive, of course!” said Haurchefant, a hint of pride in his voice. “Ishgard’s vast library houses books about every topic in the realm—that is, if you know the right people to access them.” Haurchefant looked down and bashfully shifted his weight on the barstool. “I, ah, may have indulged a bit of reading when I learned you were a Viera. I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but… I apologize; that didn’t come off strangely, did it?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” said Aoife, waving it off. “I just had no idea there were books about me—about Viera, I mean. I don’t really know that much about myself either, to be honest… my parents, er, the Asturmauxes were more merchants than scholars, unfortunately.” 

“The Archive doesn’t allow non-Ishgardian citizens to borrow its books, but if you’re interested, I could check a few out for you if you’d like,” Haurchefant offered. “There were a few general tomes, as well as some on more, ah, specific subjects… evidently Viera are quite popular as companions in other realms.” Haurchefant flushed a little. “N-not that I read any of _those_ sorts of books, mind! I can assure you that I stuck to the general titles…”

Aoife couldn’t help giggling. Now _this_ was a new look for him, red around the ears and stuttering… She almost wanted to keep pressing him on the details of those “specific” tomes he clearly had not read, but thought better of it. 

Seeing her smile, Haurchefant’s eyes seemed to dance.

“Now there’s the Aoife I know,” he said warmly. “A smile better suits a hero, don’t you think?”

She nodded to him, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her chest. How had he managed it? Cid and the other NOAH members had tried to cheer her up to no avail, yet all Haurchefant had to do was _talk_ to her and her heart already felt lighter.

“Thank you…” she said quietly. “I’m doing better now, I think…”

“Glad to hear it,” said Haurchefant. “I should probably be getting back to Camp Dragonhead; the others must be wondering where I’ve gone… Unless you have need of me here for a little longer?”

Aoife briefly considered keeping him in Revenant’s Toll; she had no doubt that he would stay without hesitation if she said the word. Part of her worried that once he’d taken his leave she’d fall back into her regrets again and order another pint—as though he was grounding her, somehow, just by lending a pointed ear to her troubles. At the same time, though… Haurchefant made her feel as though everything was going to be alright after he left, too. She may have lost a close friend, but there were so many friends she could still rely on. And there was still a chance, even slim, that she could see G’raha Tia again… 

“I’ll be alright,” said Aoife, after a time. “Thank you, Haurchefant. This meant more than you know.”

“You are most welcome,” said Haurchefant. He stood up and gave an elegant Ishgardian bow. “Anytime you have need of me, you need only ask, and I shall fly to your side in an instant.”

Aoife giggled again, bringing a hand up to hide her teeth. How could one man be such an unapologetic dork?

“I will. Safe travels, my friend.”

Haurchefant nodded to her before taking his leave, clinking his way back through the bar and out the door. Aoife watched him go, and kept her eyes fixed on the door long after he’d gone. Finally she turned to rouse her dodo, which had fallen asleep on the floor at her feet.

“Come, my little friend,” she said to it gently. It gave a sleepy _peep_ in response. “Let’s return to the Rising Stones. I’m sure I’ve made everyone worry…”

**Author's Note:**

> love to inflict even more pain on myself by turning haurchefant's last words into something he had said to her previously _(:3」∠)_
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing him tho... lord knows I have more ideas for these two so maybe I'll write some more for this ship? (ngl it's helping me cope...)
> 
>  **Edit 1/10/21:** I've now done the scholasticate quests and learned that "the scholasticate" is not what ishgard calls its library, so I changed the name to "The Holy Archive," short for "The Holy Archive of Worldly Knowledge and Halonic Wisdom"


End file.
